A few bob short

A few bob short

Just a few bob son, if you're carryin, an' we'll see you the next day.

Tellin you again how well the German's used pay out

how the weekends and the nights were double-time,

treble over if you worked a holiday,

how you'd only be scratchin yerself the half of it

but once you kept an eye out you were fine.

The way t'was all functions an' outings.

Dunmore house hired out for the Christmas,

oul Paddy Nolan, god rest him, as Santy,

and a sack full of presents for the kids.

They got the turkey and ham, sherry trifle after,

mints an' cigars, any drink they might fancy.

Or about that  time the 'pool were playin away in Portugal

the little chat he'd had with Beckenbauer,

(to his face they called him Mr Heinkel, his real name)

don't go askin him how or who had fixed it

but didn't Heinkel go an' charter 'em a jumbo jet

an' book three hundred tickets for the game.

In Lisbon they'd wallets fat as millionaires

and the beer was weak as piss and cheap as water.

Some lads'd be in deep shit with their wives

if half what they got up to traveled home,

three whole days they spent as drunk as lords

an' the quare ones all over them like flies.

Now, it's only half way through the long slump

of a Tuesday afternoon. You're getting laughter

from the lounge bar but its canned.

He's sucking the  arse out of a Johnny Blue.

His glass is damn near empty. He's a few bob short.

On his mother's life you'll get it back into your hand.

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A few bob short is from my 2007 Collection The Boy in The Ring